Elaine carried me effortlessly through the grand estate, her arms steady, her warmth constant. The hallways were lined with soft cream-colored wallpaper, and the floors gleamed with polished wood. Everything about the house felt *designed*—not in an artificial way, but in a way that exuded careful thought and purpose.
We finally reached a door at the end of the hallway, painted in a gentle pastel pink with a delicate carved sign that read *Little Blossoms.* Elaine pushed it open, stepping into the nursery, and I felt my breath hitch.
It was *beautiful.*
Soft, golden light streamed in through sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The walls were painted in a dreamy watercolor style—pale pinks, blues, and creams blending seamlessly. Floating shelves held plush toys, picture books, and delicate ceramic keepsakes. The floor was covered in a thick, cloud-soft rug, and in the center of the room, a *large* cushioned play mat spread out, decorated with tiny stars and moons.
Against the far wall stood three pristine cribs, each carefully arranged. Two were pink, one was blue. The one closest to the play area—one of the pink ones—was clearly meant for me. Above each crib, there were small wooden name plaques carved in delicate cursive. I barely had time to read mine—*Olivia*—before Elaine’s soft voice drew my attention back to her.
"And here," she murmured gently, "are your new little friends."
On the play mat, two babies lay on their backs, completely engrossed in the dangling toys above them. A baby boy, dressed in a powder blue onesie, was kicking his legs excitedly as he swatted at a plush elephant that jingled softly. Next to him, a little girl in a pale pink romper cooed, her tiny hands reaching for a spinning butterfly hanging just above her.
Elaine carried me over and slowly lowered me to sit on the cushioned mat. The other two babies barely noticed at first, too absorbed in their play. I could feel my body tense instinctively.
I wasn’t *one of them.*
But Elaine didn’t treat me like an outsider.
"There we go, sweet girl," she said softly as she settled me down, brushing a few strands of my hair away from my face. "You’ll have such fun with Grace and Noah."
She reached out and lightly stroked the back of the baby girl’s head. "This is Grace. She’s twelve months old. Such a smart little thing, aren’t you, sweetheart?" Grace gurgled happily, her tiny fingers still wrapped around the butterfly.
Then Elaine turned to the baby boy. "And this is Noah. He’s nine months old—such a curious little explorer." Noah let out a delighted squeal, finally managing to grab the jingling elephant and shaking it victoriously.
I sat completely still, feeling the weight of the situation settle over me.
These *were* real babies. They weren’t pretending. They weren’t undercover. They had no idea that I didn’t belong here.
Elaine reached out and gently took my hand in hers, her touch feather-light. "Go on, sweetheart. Say hello."
I swallowed. I couldn’t *say* hello, of course—not without breaking my cover. Instead, I simply looked at the two infants, trying to mimic their behavior.
Grace was the first to notice me. Her big, bright eyes turned toward me, and for a moment, she just stared. Then, with a slow, hesitant movement, she reached out a tiny hand and clumsily patted my arm.
A greeting.
My stomach twisted.
Elaine let out a delighted hum. "See? Grace already loves you."
Noah, still preoccupied with his elephant, only glanced at me briefly before going back to his game. He was less interested, but that was fine.
Elaine gave my back a gentle rub before standing up. "I’ll let you three get to know each other. Play nicely, my love. You’re safe here."
And with that, she stepped away, leaving me alone on the play mat—just another baby in the nursery.
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